


Fresh Poison

by gracerene



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Boss/Employee Relationship, Community: hp_kinkfest, Consent Issues, Cross-Generation Relationship, Extremely Dubious Consent, Internalized Victim Blaming, M/M, Office Sex, Sexual Coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:30:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5821405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracerene/pseuds/gracerene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albus liked working for Mr Malfoy. He only wished that Mr Malfoy would stop looking at him like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fresh Poison

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2016 [hp_kinkfest](http://hp-kinkfest.livejournal.com/169973.html) on LJ.
> 
> Not sure if this was exactly what the prompter had in mind, but I enjoyed pushing a little bit outside my comfort zone with this one. Tagging for rape/non-con as there is some fairly serious dubious consent bordering on non-con in this one.

Mr Malfoy was doing it again.

Albus could feel his stare on the back of his neck. It burned the bare strip of skin exposed above Albus's collar. It set Albus on edge as he felt the gaze linger on the curve of his arse.

Albus's stomach squirmed uncomfortably, and he knew that his cheeks were heating up under the attention. He coughed and handed Mr Malfoy the jar of lacewing flies, before turning away. Surreptitiously, he slid his heavy cloak off of its hook by his chair, feigning a chill. The fabric was thick and far too insulating in the heat of the lab, but the shapeless silhouette would hopefully distort his form and protect him from probing glaces.

Still, Mr Malfoy stared.

Albus knew that he was lucky to have gotten this position. Hundreds of people had applied for the apprenticeship, and out of everybody, Albus had been the only one chosen for the prestigious opening. Normally, he might be inclined to credit his dad's influence, but everybody knew there was no love lost between his dad and Draco Malfoy. Albus got this job in spite of his family name, not because of it. 

This was the best thing that could have happened to his career. There was no way he was going to blow it because of a little discomfort.

It wasn't that Mr Malfoy was a bad boss. On the contrary, he was open and attentive, always pulling Albus over to demonstrate a particular technique and quick to praise or generously correct Albus's own work. He never made lewd comments, and his hands did not wander. Yet Albus could not help his feeling of disquiet.

Sometimes Albus wondered if it was all in his head. Mr Malfoy was rich, talented, and not unattractive, for an older bloke. The idea that he'd be interested in Albus, the son of his old boyhood nemesis, seemed ridiculous. Perhaps the prickly feeling over his skin was simply some kind of manifestation of Albus's worry over any lingering grudges Mr Malfoy might have for his dad. The looks never felt resentful, though. They felt assessing. Covetous.

Albus shook off the feeling and focused on the cauldron in front of him. It was a lengthy, labor-intensive potion, and it would require his complete, undivided attention if he didn't want to muck it up. There was no room to wonder about off-putting glances.

He was so lost in his potion-making that he was oblivious to the happenings in the world around him. When he completed the potion several hours later and finally looked up, he was startled to notice that everybody had gone home for the day. The lab was empty. Almost empty.

Albus jumped at the sight of Mr Malfoy's steel grey eyes staring at him from only a few feet away. He was so startled, he dropped the vial containing the potion he'd spent half the day working on. Mr Malfoy was quick, though, and with a flick of his wand, he halted the vial's crashing descent. 

"Th—thank you," Albus stuttered. He picked up the vial and returned it safely to the shelf.

"You're welcome." Mr Malfoy's face was open and pleasant, but an icy drop of unease slid down Albus's spine at the look in his eyes. They were all alone at the lab. Albus's skin itched with the bizarre urge to flee, like a rabbit caught in a wolf's stare.

Mr Malfoy smiled kindly at him, showing off rows of intimidatingly perfect teeth. "I am glad I caught you, Albus." Albus shivered at the turn of phrase and wondered if it was intentional. Maybe Albus was just going mad. "I have been wanting to chat about how things are going. Why don't you join me in my office for a drink before you head out for the day."

Albus's eyes widened. "Oh no, I couldn't. Really, I should be going…"

"Nonsense. We have been so busy these past few months that I have not had a chance to sit down with you, but it _is_ policy." He flashed a practised, cajoling smile. "Truly, I insist."

Albus bit his lip. His instincts told him to leave, now, but what the hell did they know? Mr Malfoy was only being kind, and Albus would need to get over this ridiculous discomfort if he was going to continue to work with him. Surely one drink wouldn't do any harm. "Yes, all right. A drink."

"Excellent."

Mr Malfoy led them to his office, a large and comfortably decorated space off the main lab. Half the room was taken up by a lavish, emerald green loveseat. Albus cast his eyes about the room, looking for another place to sit, but there was nowhere else. Reluctantly, he perched himself on the far corner edge of the sofa, while Mr Malfoy prepared their drinks.

Albus realised, as he accepted a steaming glass of amber liquid, that he should have paid greater attention to Mr Malfoy's pouring of the drinks. Not that he thought Mr Malfoy would _do_ anything, but Albus knew better than to leave a Potions Master alone with one's potables.

Completely unaware of Albus's inner turmoil, Mr Malfoy joined him on the settee and took a delicate sip of his drink. Albus noted that Mr Malfoy was far closer to him than was strictly necessary. "You have been at the lab for almost two months now, Albus. How are you liking it here?"

"Oh, erm, it's great." Albus felt tongue tied under the weight of Mr Malfoy's gaze. He brought up his drink and took a swallow in his nervousness, forgetting about his earlier reservations. The Firewhisky was smoky and smooth. It would have been soothing, if it hadn't been for Mr Malfoy's hungry eyes narrowing in on the bob of Albus's throat as he swallowed and sweeping over the glossy shine of liquid on his lips.

"So you are...satisfied in your current position?"

Albus squirmed in his seat. The room felt stifling, suffocating, but Albus knew if he left now, he'd run the risk of insulting Mr Malfoy. He was the most talented Potions Master in the industry, and Albus had a lot to learn from him. Albus didn't want to alienate his potential mentor. He just wished Mr Malfoy would stop looking at him like he was something particularly tasty.

"Yeah, I've been learning loads. I'm really grateful for the opportunity. Truly."

Mr Malfoy's eyes flashed with something pleased and victorious. "I am delighted to hear that, Albus," he murmured. His voice was low and rich. Albus had never heard anybody say his name quite like that. He wasn't sure he liked it. "It is so very important to me that my employees are happy." He paused. "And, of course, that they...appreciate all that they have been given." 

Albus's pulse jumped as smooth fingers caressed the curve of his cheekbone. He couldn't suppress a shiver. His heart raced and every instinct screamed at him to make his escape.

"I am, I do. You're very gracious, Mr Malfoy. But I really should get going now. Thank you for the drink." Albus stood up, and Mr Malfoy stood with him.

"Please, call me Draco," Mr Malfoy purred. He reached out and caught Albus's wrist, his strong fingers applying just the faintest amount of pressure. "And you have not even finished your drink."

"I—yes, but it's getting late…"

"Silly boy, it's not even eight yet," he said, with a confident smile. The smile of a man who got what he wanted. "Please, stay a little longer. It would not be polite to deprive an old man like me of such attractive company."

Albus opened his mouth, trying to think of a way to protest without gravely offending his boss. Instead, he squeaked, "Attractive?" 

Mr Malfoy's smile turned sharp and predatory. "Surely you know what a becoming young man you are." 

Albus flushed. He felt uncomfortable with the compliment, yet strangely flattered. Albus wasn't exactly hideous, but it wasn't everyday that somebody so powerful and experienced told him that he was attractive. It was a surprising boost to his ego. He found himself smiling shyly at Mr Malfoy in response. 

Mr Malfoy's grin widened. "And so very talented. Do not think I have not noticed how hard you have been working. You are one of the most promising apprentices I have taken on in a long while."

"Yeah?" All thoughts of discomfort flew out the window at Mr Malfoy's words. "Do you really think I'm good?"

"Of course. If you keep it up, you will be on track for a permanent position within the year."

A wide, genuine smile split Albus's face, and he took a step closer to Mr Malfoy, almost on instinct. "Really? That would be amazing. I won't let you down!"

"I know you won't, Albus." He said Albus's name in that funny way again, and Albus realised how close they were standing. Mr Malfoy was only a few inches taller, but he still managed to loom over Albus. He raised his hand and cupped Albus's face. "You really are very attractive, Albus."

Albus didn't know what to say. He felt paralyzed, petrified, like he'd seen a Basilisk's gaze reflected in the silver of Mr Malfoy's eyes. 

"I'd very much like to kiss you, Albus. May I?"

Startled by the direct question, Albus found himself saying, "Sure," before he'd even thought about it. 

Mr Malfoy didn't lose a moment before his lips descended on Albus's. His mouth was soft and obviously skilled. It didn't make Albus's knees weak or cause his heart stutter, but Mr Malfoy wasn't a _bad_ kisser. The whole thing felt a little dirty, but he wasn't completely sure why. He'd snogged worse blokes at clubs and house parties, blokes whose names he hadn't known, blokes who wouldn't have been able to kiss their way out a paper bag. So why did this one make him feel so jittery and antsy?

Finally, Mr Malfoy pulled back, looking pleased and, if possible, even more ravenous. "The things you do to me, Albus. Strutting around the office in those too-tight trousers, always bending over your cauldron and showing off your firm arse. Taunting me." 

Albus shook his head, wanting to deny the accusations. He could hardly be blamed for bending over cauldrons—he was a bloody potioneer! Albus wondered though, if there was truth to Mr Malfoy's words. Maybe he _had_ been doing what Mr Malfoy was accusing him of. He had known that Mr Malfoy's eyes were always on him, and he'd thought that perhaps they were looking at him with less than innocent regard. Maybe Albus had been choosing clothing that was too-tight and overly flattering on purpose. Maybe he had been teasing Mr Malfoy. His stomach felt fluttery, and his nerves jangled. He supposed it wasn't unlike the first stirrings of attraction.

"Yes. You want it. You've been begging for it. All those coy looks and flirtatious smiles. I know what they mean."

Albus's heart thudded, and his pulse raced. He was so confused. He didn't know what to think anymore. Mr Malfoy's hands curved around his shoulders. They massaged the muscle there comfortingly for a moment before exerting a firm pressure. Lost in the maelstrom of his emotions, Albus obeyed the unspoken command without a thought. It wasn't until his knees hit the ground that he fully registered what had happened. He blinked rapidly, looking up into Mr Malfoy's seductive gaze.

Mr Malfoy's hand slid from Albus's shoulder. His fingers trailed across Albus's throat before his thumb traced Albus's lips. From this angle, Albus could see the clear line of Mr Malfoy's erection distending the normally pristine line of his black trousers. Albus gulped and shook his head instinctively, trying to clear out the ringing noise filling his ears and the fog that had settled over him.

"Tell me that you want this, Albus," Draco commanded. His voice was like rich chocolate, dark and smooth.

Did he want this? Had this been what Albus had been after all along? 

"I—erm—maybe?" He wasn't sure anymore. Albus hadn't thought so, but perhaps he had been fooling himself. He had already let Mr Malfoy kiss him and that hadn't been so bad. Albus thought it might be too late to leave now, anyways. Mr Malfoy was unbuttoning his trousers.

Mr Malfoy's cock was long and pink. It sprang out of his trousers quite determined, the leaking mushroom head pointing straight at Albus. Albus hadn't done this much before, but he knew what was expected of him. Seeing Mr Malfoy's erection now, though, sent another wave of indecision crashing through him.

He bit his lip and hesitated. Mr Malfoy noticed.

"Come now, Albus. You already said yes. It wouldn't be proper to back out now."

Had he? He couldn't remember. Mr Malfoy's thumb nudged at Albus's mouth and pried his lips apart. The pad of Mr Malfoy's fingertip was salty as it pressed against his tongue. Albus opened his mouth wider. He didn't mind sucking cock, and Mr Malfoy wasn't hideous. He smelled musky, but clean, and Albus thought there were worse things he could be doing to get his boss's approval. Deep down, Albus was sure he could leave at any time. It wasn't like Mr Malfoy was _forcing_ him or anything. He was certain if he really wanted, he could walk out that door, and Mr Malfoy would let him. Albus was equally certain, though, that Mr Malfoy wouldn't be happy about it. Mr Malfoy hadn't said or threatened any consequences, but all the same, Albus wanted to keep Mr Malfoy happy. 

Above him, Mr Malfoy hummed in pleasure, as if noting Albus's acquiescence. With a nudge, the spongy head of his erection pressed against Albus's mouth. Albus expected him to keep sliding right inside, but Mr Malfoy paused with the tip of his prick resting on Albus's lower lip. He wanted Albus to do the work.

"Go on, Albus. Show me how much you want it."

Tentatively, Albus sucked at the tip, wrinkling his nose at the burst of bitter precome. He slackened his jaw and pressed forward in an effort to take in as much of Mr Malfoy as he could. Mr Malfoy was long, and Albus couldn't fit all of him inside. He brought up a hand to wank the rest.

It was different, sucking somebody off without the heady thrum of arousal surging through him. The mechanics were the same, but the sensations seemed sharper without the thrill of lust clouding his mind. His cock lay mostly soft against his thigh, acknowledging the proceedings with only the occasional half-hearted twitch. 

Mr Malfoy's hands tangled in his hair and began to urge him on, startling a moan out of Albus; he'd always enjoyed a bit of hair pulling. This seemed to please Mr Malfoy, and he started to thrust into Albus's open mouth with eager rolls of his hips. Albus opened his mouth wider and did his best not to choke on the thrusting cock. He closed his eyes and let Mr Malfoy use his mouth, wondering if he'd be expected to swallow.

Minutes later, that question was answered for him. Mr Malfoy growled and pulled mostly out of Albus's throat until just the head rested on Albus's tongue. His cock jerked before thick spurts of come coated Albus's lips and tongue, dripping down his chin. He shuddered at the viscous, gritty texture and the acrid flavour. Albus didn't move to clean himself though, not until Mr Malfoy moved away, looking well satisfied. Only once he started tucking himself away did Albus clear away the evidence of Mr Malfoy's pleasure with a sweep of his wand.

Mr Mafloy grinned lazily down at him and offered a gallant hand to Albus. Albus took it reluctantly. He'd said yes. It had been his choice to suck Mr Malfoy off. Albus hadn't been forced to do anything against his will, so he couldn't quite reconcile the queasy feeling in his stomach or the way his entire body wanted to recoil from Mr Malfoy's touch. Mr Malfoy raised his hand and traced Albus's now clean lips with his thumb, and Albus fought against the urge to flinch away.

"So beautiful. And so very accommodating. I see bright things in your future, Albus."

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy," Albus said, unable to meet Mr Malfoy's eyes. He wanted to flee again. He wanted to get away from Mr Malfoy's probing eyes and process what had just happened. "I should probably get going."

"Of course. It's getting late." He smiled again, intent and lascivious. "I think you have quite a lot to offer. I look forward to working with you more closely, Albus."

Albus shivered and drew his cloak more firmly around himself. "Of course, Mr Malfoy. Me too."

Mr Malfoy tilted his glass in farewell, and his lips pulled into an almost mocking smirk as Albus slipped out of the door.

Albus held his breath he walked quickly towards to the Floo, not allowing himself to relax until he was in his flat with the Floo locked firmly behind him. He sagged against the mantle, images from the past hour bouncing around in his head, making his heart race and his skin break out into goose flesh. 

It had been a long, confusing day was all. He needed a nice, hot shower, and then all would be right with the world again.

His hands shook as he turned on the faucet, cranking the water up as hot as it would go. It was scalding hot, but that's what Albus wanted. There was a chill deep inside him, and his skin felt like it was covered in a layer of grime. The burning heat of the shower was just what he needed. That would set everything to rights.

He would be fine. It would all be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> [Kudos ♥] and [Comments] are fabulous! I'd love to hear what you think!
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://gracerene09.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
